


I’m Gonna Break Me a Million Hearts

by PaxDuane



Series: By Writ and Lips [13]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Boys In Love, High Heels, M/M, Priest AU, Secret Relationship, Shopping, These Boots Are Made For Walking, kind of, more accurately it's a private relationship but when you have over a million brothers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:53:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26620957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaxDuane/pseuds/PaxDuane
Summary: On a shopping trip with Shmi Skywalker and Senator Amidala, Dogma discovers heels.Multiple people benefit, but Fox might just be the luckiest.
Relationships: Dogma & CT-5385 | Tup, Dogma & CT-6116 | Kix, Dogma/CC-1010 | Fox
Series: By Writ and Lips [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1805827
Comments: 14
Kudos: 85





	I’m Gonna Break Me a Million Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> I mentioned a shopping trip in A Poor Man's Game, and this is *not* that shopping trip. No, this is the initial shopping trip that caused Dogma's side-eyeing of shopping with Padme and Shmi. 
> 
> *Title from Hell on Heels by the Pistol Annies, because I can't help myself.

Dogma leans against Kix, both of them gaping at the wall of shoes in front of them.

“Senator?” Kix calls with a voice at least an octave higher than usual, not looking away.

Senator Amidala turns from where she and Lady Skywalker are comparing dresses for sale. “Yes Kix?”

“These can’t be healthy?” he says, half a question as he points to the heels Dogma is eyeing.

Lady Skywalker laughs, putting up the dress she was holding to join them. That she was on-planet was the whole reason they were here. Anakin knows his mother can take care of herself, more than he considers his wife’s abilities sometimes, but it’s more about giving his mother people she can understand.

Jango will crack up when they find out about this.

Dogma sluices his gaze over the shoes to her. “I want to try them,” he tells Shmi quietly, making Kix choke.

“Some people certainly like their significant others wearing them,” Lady Skywalker says, smirking and making both clones blush.

Dogma sputters. “I… What?”

Kix takes the moment to lean right back against his kih’vod’ika, trying to toss his balance off to no avail. “How _is_ your boyfriend?” he teases.

That brings Senator Amidala over. “You have a boyfriend, Dogma?”

“Still hasn’t told anyone who it is,” Kix says. “But he disappears some nights on shore leave and comes back with hickeys. He’s admitted his partner’s male and the same person every time, but that’s it.”

“Kix I will switch you to decaff,” Dogma threatens. “I’d feel a lot more comfortable telling you if I were like you and Jesse and had no common decency.”

Kix makes an offended noise.

“You don’t need to tell anyone,” Lady Skywalker assures him. “But if you meet him on Coruscant, why don’t we get you a surprise for him?”

Senator Amidala smiles wide. “I think that sounds like a fantastic use of our time. Come on, Dogma. What do you think?”

Dogma gets the feeling she’s hoping for a hint in colors, but he’s hardly the kind of person to wear others’ colors. Something about being part of a company of leftovers, maybe, or maybe it was his attachment to blues in general. Torrent, all of the 501st, was relief because it didn’t clash with the armor he’d always imagined. “Black,” he says easily. “I look better in dark colors,” he explains, shrugging.

He’s wearing a black shirt from his growing collection of civvies, open at the throat, and a pair of dark wash denims he stole off Sail. Those aren’t his style, exactly, since they’re skinny cut instead of slim. And he hates denim. But they’re dark and Sail wanted to use the capri trousers he’d just finished tailoring for himself.

Lady Skywalker looks him up and down, calculating. Her goddess, swanning over from where she was inspecting more dresses near the back, joins her.

“These,” the two stay in tandem, Lady Skywalker reaching out for an ankle boot style with two-inch heels, each heel about an inch thick.

Dogma accepts them and lets Senator Amidala push him over to a seat to try them.

“These look good,” Amidala says, holding one up to inspect while he buttons up the side closure on the other one. “They’re also good for beginners, with a wide enough heel to be solid, especially since it isn’t too tall. It does seem like the kind of shoe you’d wear with layers, though.”

“I have a jacket,” he tells her, accepting the other shoe.

“Better not be Jesse’s,” Kix calls from where he and Lady Skywalker are comparing two pairs of white heels. “I have dibs this leave.”

“It’s in your office,” Dogma reminds him. “And I was talking about someone else’s jacket.”

“Boyfriend,” Kix mouths, eyes narrowed. He’s determined to figure it out.

Dogma carefully doesn’t answer. Instead he stands up and takes a few steps.

Amidala stares at his feet. “One, you make those work. Two, I didn’t think you’d do that good in them. Is his balance really that good, Kix?” she asks the medic.

Kix shakes his head at Dogma. “He’s probably the vod with the best balance.”

Dogma smirks and does a turn on his heel. “It’s not that bad,” he tells Amidala, now ensconced as the tallest of their little group. “I’ve balanced on worse.”

“Please don’t bring up the pipe from last deployment,” Kix grumbles.

“Wasn’t thinking of that one, Kix,” Dogma promises. “That wasn’t that bad either.”

“I don’t want to hear about it then,” he snaps. He goes back to looking at the shoes.

Amidala shakes her head. “Amazing. But what kind of jacket are you going to wear?”

Dogma blushes. The jacket wouldn’t look out of place on a bounty hunter, because that’s what it was bought for. Or, moreover, it was bought for Guard undercover operations. It just happens that Fox got first dibs on claiming it, so it lives in a box on top of the wardrobe the Guard uses for civvies. It soaks up stunner bolts thanks to some treatment of the dark leather, zips up the front, and has an overlapping collar closure. He’s only actually seen it once, and not for very long because it proceeded to get tossed in a corner, but he fully plans on stealing it tonight. Possibly with Thorn’s help, since the di’kut owes him. “Black leather speeder bike jacket,” he eventually admits.

Amidala gives him an impressed look. “Your boyfriend has good taste,” she teases.

He purses his lips, because Fox works with Amidala. Still, that’s in official assignments, with the armor on. And Thorn is still the only one besides them who truly knows about this whole relationship. That doesn’t mean he should make a joke about it! “Looks better on the floor,” he eventually says, because he can’t help himself.

Amidala pauses for a moment, eyes wide. Then she laughs, a wheezing, high pitched thing that he’s not heard before, in any of her times on the ship or in any of her official appearances. “I’m sure it does,” she tells him, winking, once she calms down. “That’s a good one.”

Dogma smirks back at her.

“What about a different shirt, though?” she offers, squinting at him. “I have an idea.”

Dogma gets a feeling he’s not going to like this idea at first.

***

“What are those?” Thorn asks, staring agape at Dogma’s feet. He looks up at Tup, then to Theed. “Am I hallucinating those?”

Tup gets a twisted expression that probably means he’s wondering just who Dogma comes to see at the Guard Office. If they didn’t have money riding on the true identity, and if they weren’t gods awful at keeping secrets, Dogma would take pity and tell them. “No.” He glances at Theed. “I get to borrow them tomorrow night.”

Theed lights up.

Dogma rolls his eyes. “I brought those pastries your boss likes,” he tells Thorn.

Thorn goes even wider eyed. “I’ll take those, thanks.”

Dogma hands over the box of pastries. “Who’s walking me back to the barracks?” he asks, getting a scandalized noise out of Tup.

Thorn looks down at the heels again. “Thire won’t let you leave until he gets dibs on those for when you head out on campaign again.”

“He in the office?”

“Yeah, go on in.”

Dogma gives his goodbyes for the night to Tup and Theed, heading back to the Commander-in-charge office. Thire is face down on the floor. Fox is sitting at the desk, rubbing his temples. “Commander Thire,” Dogma calls out, getting a groan from the clone attempting to be mistaken for a corpse. “Thorn said you’d want dibs on my shoes for when the 501st is on campaign again.”

This time, Thire makes the usual disgruntled noise that he makes when faced with Dogma. He flops over to glare up at him. “Why the hell would I want your shoes?”

Dogma balances on one foot, careful to not look at the amused confusion on Fox’s face as he extends his foot up just enough to show Thire the heeled boot.

Thire makes a noise not unlike a baby rancor woken from a nap. “Oh _kark_ ,” he mutters, grasping Dogma’s ankle and looking at them. “You’ll donate them for undercover?”

“I’ll loan them for undercover,” Dogma corrects. “They get ruined, I have the type of shoe and the store I got it from so they can be replaced. Senator Amidala got them for me after all.”

“And in return?” Thire asks, suspicious.

“I get the ability to borrow Fox’s jacket when he’s not using it.”

Fox raises an eyebrow and catches Dogma’s gaze. “Shouldn’t I be the one who gets to decide that?” he asks mildly.

“No, you shouldn’t and aren’t,” Thire announces. He hops up, letting Dogma put both feet on the ground. “Let me go get you that jacket.”

When Thire bursts out of the office to get the jacket, Dogma strides around the desk to Fox, letting him get a glance at the boots.

Fox’s lips part and he takes Dogma’s hand, pressing a brief kiss to the palm. “Well, they have been getting onto me about needing to blow off some steam, lately.”

By the time Thire is back, Fox is packing up for the night.

Dogma accepts the box with the jacket, depositing it on the desk for a moment while he strips off the jumper he wore to the office. Thire makes a strangled noise that’s followed by a distant, “Oh” from Fox.

Dogma slides that jacket on over the skintight black halter tank, pleased by how the leather feels on his bare back.

“You’re not allowed to be hot,” Thire insists, startling a laugh out of Fox.

Dogma just looks smug.

“I’m kind of scared for what your plans are for when I drop you off back at the barracks,” Fox admits. “Considering.”

Dogma shrugs. “Speaking of, do I need to go harass Thorn until it’s time to go, or…?”

“Let me clock out and I’ll take you back,” Fox says, rolling his eyes. “You’re a good brother to see your sibling to meet their boyfriend and then let them kriff off alone.”

“It certainly gets me some favors,” he agrees.

Fox clicks through a datapad then puts it aside. “Thire, you’re in charge.”

Thire gives a final distressed look at the heels then shoos them off. Fox says a few goodbyes before they leave, but eventually they get out. Normally, they keep a professional distance on these walks, but halfway to the barracks he’s listing closer to Dogma.

“You look good,” he mutters, voice low in volume and tone.

“Shoes or your jacket?” Dogma asks, running a hand over his slicked back hair to free it in a short mess of curls. He’s gratified when Fox’s breath hitches.

“It’s a whole look,” Fox mutters. “I’m guessing Amidala is responsible for the shirt too?”

“Mmhm.”

“I’ll have to thank her.”

Barracks. Avoiding the others. Stripping Fox out of his armor. Curling up on his lap and kissing him wild.

Fox nips at Dogma’s shoulder, holding the leather of the jacket back for access instead of taking it off, then hums into the other’s skin. “Maybe next time, you can come on a mission with me. I’m sure some of my contacts would be thrilled to meet my perfect,” a kiss to the shoulder, “sexy,” a kiss to the neck, “cunning boyfriend.” He kisses Dogma smooth and slow. “And it would give me a chance to get your ass on my lap in public.”

“Bet Thire’s halfway into asking,” Dogma points out. “But…”

“Playing it close, I know,” Fox murmurs, another nip to the skin behind Dogma’s ear, a hand dipping to the waistband of Dogma’s borrowed denims. “More fun than usual, though. Way more for missions, a little more than our usual date nights.”

“Fox,” Dogma warns, caressing his cheek. “I’d love to, but right now I’m more interested in where your hands are going.”

“Noted,” Fox says, smiling ferally.

**Author's Note:**

> Dogma will always tease Kix about Jesse. Always. And Kix will always tease Dogma about Fox, even when he doesn't know it's about Fox.
> 
> I really want to write some Jango & Shmi because it'd be funny. They're both just That Kind of Parent. And I really like that I mentioned (I wrote the first part two months ago) that Dogma always expected to have blue on his armor, and yes he's implying he expected to wear Jango's colors.
> 
> Any character who is either a Scout or part of the Guard 1) shares all kinds of clothes and 2) wear all kinds of clothes. They just Know How To Do It. Dogma, as the team baby, is the one of Torrent's Scouts who does most of the sewing. 
> 
> Kix: these don't look safe or healthy  
> Kix, five minutes later: should I get these or these?
> 
> Count of people in this fic who didn't expect to find Dogma in heels that attractive: |||||
> 
> Look, Dogma may be a bit of a daredevil. He fits in well in Torrent. Meanwhile, the Guard all benefit greatly from being on a cosmopolitan planet with lots of bakeries (and the boss that Dogma mentioned the pastries being for is technically Stone! though all of the commanders like them.)
> 
> Thire and Dogma have a huge rivalry that actually comes from back when this series was going to be Soft Wars fanfiction ;;; and now they're just assholes to each other. Oh well! Honestly Thire is probably going to be the first one to realize Foxma is go, because he's smart but also has huge Drama goggles on. It's not like they're hiding it, technically, it's that they're both private people who try not to interact on the clock and that's about the only time Thire actually sees them together. Will he use their relationship to his own advantage, likely in furthering whatever spy game he has going on with the Bounty Hunter's Guild? Oh 10/10. 
> 
> Anyone who knows me is aware that I think kissing palms is the height of romance.


End file.
